Stranger in a familiar place
by bubblecore
Summary: A year after the war, Harry somehow manages to get thrown back in time to the Marauders 7th year. Dumbledore convinces him to become the DADA professor. How will he handle seeing the young Marauders? Can he keep himself from telling them about the future?
1. Chapter 1

_Messrs. Padfoot and Prongs like to report that mission Stick-Snivellus-To-The-Ceiling has been accomplished._

_Mr. Moony says yet again that Messrs. Padfoot and Prongs are being childish._

_Mr. Prongs can't help but gasp in outrage._

_Mr. Padfoot states that he is proud of his childishness. It makes him cool, he thinks._

_Mr. Wormtail has taken a liking to roast potatoes._

_Mr. Moony does not see how this is relevant, Mr. Wormtail._

_Mr. Prongs would rather have some chicken and does not think Mr. Padfoot is cool at all._

_Mr. Padfoot thinks that chicken stinks, as does Mr. Prongs._

_Mr. Moony would like to bring to Messrs. Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs attention that some weird light has appeared in the sky._

_Mr. Prongs would like to express his concerns for Mr. Moony._

_Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs and would like to ask Mr. Moony if he maybe is getting a bit delusional? _

_Mr. Moony would appreciate it very much if Messrs. Padfoot and Prongs would follow Mr. Wormtail's example and look out of the window before they say anything._

_Mr. Prongs admits there is indeed a strange light in the sky and apologizes sincerely to Mr. Moony. _

_Mr. Padfoot is sorry as well and worries about the origin of this light. Maybe aliens are invading earth?_

_Mr. Wormtail giggles at Mr. Padfoot's comment. _

_Mr. Moony doesn't know for sure, but he thinks he just saw a person appear out of nowhere on the grounds._

_Mr. Wormtail shrieks and bails – Aliens are coming for us!_

_Messrs. Padfoot, Prongs and Moony ignore Mr. Wormtail and watch the light disappear. The person, however, stays where he or she is._

~O.o.O.o.O~

To say that Harry Potter was confused was an understatement. He had absolutely no idea how he had gotten on Hogwarts grounds and was even more confused about the fact that it was dark, which meant it was night. He was certain that it had been light outside though. He was also certain that he had been in the Ministry of Magic just a moment ago.

Screwing his eyes shut, he tried remember what had happened. He had been in the Ministry. Right, he had been helping destroy some dark artifacts, that's what he had been doing. It was part of his Auror training after all.

But that didn't explain why he was on Hogwarts grounds right now. Well, obviously some dark artifact had done this, but what could cause this? He had been dealing with some weird looking clocks a few hours before appearing here, but how –

Ah, yes. They had exploded. Right in his face. That had been unpleasant and it didn't help that Ron had seen it happen and thought it was hilarious. It might have been because the hands of the clocks had been stuck in Harry's hair, but really, it hadn't been that funny. It had taken him at least half an hour to pick all those little buggers out of his hair, after which he ran into Hermione who told him he could easily have used magic to make them disappear. Of course, this cracked Ron up even more. Harry, not being able to take more laughing at his expense, had snapped that at least _he_ hadn't gotten any extra body parts like Ron had just a day ago. It had gotten Ron to shut up quite effectively.

Harry especially remembered those three extra noses Ron had gotten and he couldn't help but snort at the memory. It had been quite a sight and Ron had ended up walking around looking weird for a whole day. Hermione had eventually taken pity on him though and had taken the curse off him.

As it started to rain, Harry mentally slapped himself – here he was, thinking about how funny Ron looked with four noses, while he should be busy trying to figure out how he got here!

Right, so he had met Hermione. That was in the Atrium, if he remembered correctly, on their way to lunch. Frowning, Harry searched in his mind for the memories. It was as if his memories of this day were clouded by a thick fog, which was kind of funny, because the day had been rather sunny and bright.

Harry groaned in frustration, while trying to shake his wet hair out of his eyes. Why the hell could he remember the bloody _weather_, but not what had happened to him? Besides, it was not like it mattered now, because it no longer was sunny and bright: it was _dark_ and _rainy. _Oh Merlin, he was getting soaked.

Briskly, he turned towards the castle and started to walk. He was on Hogwarts grounds now anyway, why not find shelter? The artifact had only seemed to have teleported him away, he thought, ignoring the fact that it also suddenly had become night. If it had done something else, he would find out soon, wouldn't he?

He amused himself for a moment with the image of Hogwarts castle trying to eat him, but that was very unlikely to happen. But then again, Harry had never thought he would see Ron with four noses, so anything was possible in this crazy world he figured.

The grass under his feet was slippery and he had to be careful not to fall. This was hard, since he was still trying to figure out what had happened and actually needed his full concentration for that.

So he had had lunch with his friends, then they had returned to work. He stopped walking for a moment as the fog in his brain seemed to lift rather suddenly. He remembered the moment before appearing here now. He had opened the door to the 'Dark Artifacts Room' (Ministry workers didn't seem to be very creative) and a very intense light had enveloped him.

He sighed and started walking again. This knowledge didn't help him one bit. He still had no idea what had caused this strange teleportation. It could have been a late response to the exploding clocks, but then again, it simply could have been anything in that room.

Still, there was the problem of how the artifact had been triggered, so for now Harry decided to settle on the clocks being the cause of this. These were the only artifacts that could have been triggered somehow, since he had touched parts of the clocks. He was fairly sure that Ron had not touched anything (Rule number one: never touch dark artifacts), but he couldn't be sure of course.

Walking up to the doors, he tried to convince himself that he shouldn't worry. He had only teleportated, a small amount of time had passed and he was alright.

Still, he couldn't help but feel that there was something wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had already forgotten how dark Hogwarts could get at night: he could barely see a thing when he had shut the doors behind him. It felt as if he hadn't been here in years, while it actually hadn't even been a week since he last stood in this castle. He was helping rebuild it, after all. The castle had been in ruins after the war and even now, a year after the Final Battle, they still weren't done yet.

Rebuilding the castle had turned out to be more difficult then they had expected it would be, since Hogwarts had magic running trough its walls, which had to be kept undamaged, and had many – not yet revealed – secrets. Some parts of Hogwarts even seemed to fight against being repaired. Harry had had to deal with a very stubborn staircase, which kept vanishing newly added steps, or making trick steps of them.

The ghosts hadn't helped much either. They kept making suggestions that always turned out bad if someone actually followed them, or kept telling people that they could have done a much better job, had they been alive.

Peeves was, naturally, the most annoying of them all, since he found joy in destroying things. Especially things that had cost a long time to repair and preferably in front of the one who had done the repairing. He had ceased this only after professor McGonagall, now headmistress, had yelled she'd kick him out if he didn't stop this nonsense. After that, Peeves had floated around the castle with a bored look on his face, making sure to stay as far away from McGonagall as possible. He didn't want to risk having to find a new home. He liked to irritate students too much and Hogwarts was the best place to do this.

With a quickly cast _lumos, _Harry created some light so he wouldn't accidentally walk into a wall. For some reason his heartbeat was speeding up and he felt uneasy, as if he was doing something that he shouldn't be doing and could be caught any time now.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand to see the hall more clearly. As he expected, it was completely empty. He decided that he'd better see if McGonagall was in the castle. If she was, she would be pissed with him for waking her up, but he really needed someone to tell him that everything was fine.

He started walking towards the marble staircase, only stop again when he was halfway down the hall. Frowning, he examined the hourglasses by the wall. He couldn't remember that the Slytherin hourglass had been repaired. But this didn't bother him as much as the fact that the hourglasses seemed to be in use. According to the gemstones, Ravenclaw house was currently leading, closely followed by Slytherin house. Gryffindor house was in last place: they barely had any points.

Harry blinked. He could have sworn he just saw Gryffindor's points being reduced, but that wasn't possible, since there were no students here. It was probably a trick of the light, he thought. It was really dark after all.

Tomorrow, he was going to ask who had repaired the Slytherin hourglass though. He knew that Hermione had wanted to do that, but then she could have at least told him she had gotten permission to!

He walked closer to the hourglasses to take a closer look at Hermione's work and this time he couldn't deny it anymore. Gryffindor was losing points at that very moment: he could see the rubies being sucked into the upper bulb of the hourglass.

What was going on?

Running the last couple of meters, he stopped right in front of the Gryffindor hourglass, watching the rubies fly up with a slightly glazed look on his face. When the rubies stopped moving, he directed his attention to the Slytherin hourglass.

It was shiny, smooth and completely without any scratches. Running his hand over the surface, Harry could feel no bumps. It looked and felt as if it had never been broken.

It was unbelievable. This was a Hogwarts hourglass, one that had a lot of magic in it. Even Hermione couldn't do such a great job at repairing this. She couldn't have done this, he knew what she was capable of. Besides, experts had said that the hourglass couldn't be completely repaired. Even Dumbledore himself couldn't have done it without leaving any bumps, they had said.

So why was it in such a perfect state right now?

He tried to steady his breath, there was no need to panic. It would soon be explained to him, so dwelling here wasn't going to do him any good.

With that in mind he tore himself away from the mystery that was the hourglass and climbed the marble staircase. McGonagall still used her chambers on the first floor, since they still hadn't gotten to repairing the three upper floors. He passed the toilets, some empty classrooms and found McGonagall just descending the moving staircase, dressed in a tartan nightgown, muttering angrily about something. That didn't matter though, Harry was just relieved to see her.

"Professor! Professor McGonagall!" He called out, jogging towards her. She turned around and he abruptly stopped in his tracks. McGonagall was looking at him with fury in her eyes, her lips thinned until he wasn't certain that she had any lips at all. She scared him in a way Voldemort had never managed to scare him, so when she marched up to him he decided to run.

He didn't get very far however: McGonagall seemed to be quite fast for a woman her age and had grabbed him firmly by the arm after he'd run a lousy three steps. She turned him around and she looked even more scary then before.

"Mr. Potter! How dare you!" She yelled. "Another 20 points from Gryffindor!"

"I – what?" Said Harry with a blank look on his face.

McGonagall pinned another angry look on him and started to pull him up the stairs.

"Don't you dare act innocent with me, Potter!" She said, her nostrils flaring. "I'm disgusted – this is the _second_ time I catch you out tonight!"

Harry sputtered something unintelligible. He was utterly confused. Minerva McGonagall wasn't someone to make a joke like this, so that was out. Which left that she was actually serious about this!

In the main time, McGonagall had just kept ranting. "... Head Boy for crying out loud! Never in my whole time at Hogwarts – are you listening Mr. Potter?"

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and nodded absentmindedly. Wait – Head Boy?

"You will serving detention with Filch for the whole coming week." She continued coldly, dragging him op another flight of stairs. He had no idea where McGonagall was dragging him to or what she was talking about for that matter.

"I really hope for you and your friends that they are not hanging around out of bed now as well, seeing as you and Black are inseparable." Said McGonagall crisply, looking around as if Black would jump out behind a suit of armor any second now. "Oh, hello Headmaster."

Harry, still confused about the whole ordeal and the mention of a 'Black', turned his neck so quickly a burning pain shot through it. The pain was quickly forgotten because of the man he saw.

"Ah, fancy seeing you, Minerva. I see you found Mr. Potter then. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with him for a moment."

McGonagall reluctantly let go of him and left, leaving him in the clutches of a man he had not seen since his sixth year at Hogwarts – a man he had died in front of his eyes.

"Well then, let's go to my office, shall we?"


	3. Chapter 3

Harry stared at the bearded man in front of him, not noticing the raised eyebrows, in fact not noticing anything really. That artifact had done more damage than he had thought. This wasn't real, he was having hallucinations!

The hallucination in question cleared his throat and, when he got no reaction out of Harry, proceeded to follow McGonagall's example of dragging Harry with him by the arm. This only registered in his mind after being dragged up two flights of stairs. It didn't add up in the hallucination picture: this man could grab him and was therefor solid.

So this man was real then.

His mind was spinning – trying to understand what was happening. But it was just plain weird. The hourglasses, McGonagall's behavior, the mention of a Black, this Dumbledore look-a-like. Harry gasped. They were now on the fourth floor, which was completely whole, no trace of the war to be seen anymore.

Before he could take a better look, he was dragged up another flight of stairs. A voice somewhere in the back of his head kept yelling he should move, do something, but his body wouldn't obey. All the energy he had was being used by trying to solve this puzzle. But he was no Hermione, he couldn't fit the pieces together.

He looked up at the man, who had a worried frown on his face, seeming deep in thought. Well, at least he wasn't the only one that was troubled then, though he thought he surely was the one with bigger problems.

The man turned his attention on Harry when he almost tripped on yet another stair – he had no idea how many he had already climbed, it was quite tiring really.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, it is really important that I talk to you. I know you are probably tired and you have classes tomorrow, but it is kind of your own fault for being out after curfew." The man smiled at his confused face, eyes twinkling in a familiar way. "So please bare with me, okay?"

"Curfew?" Harry choked out. It earned him a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, although I'm sure you would like to forget about curfew, like many other students." The man then chuckled, amusement evident in his eyes.

Harry didn't know what to say to this. He wasn't a student. He hadn't been a student for at least two years now. But then again, Dumbledore was dead but he could swear that the man walking next to him was Dumbledore. He at least looked a lot like him.

"Sugar quills."

They had arrived by the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's or Headmistress' office. It had jumped aside when the password had been said and Harry automatically stepped on the magical stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs and opened the door his heart skipped a beat. The first thing he saw immediately didn't make sense: he saw Fawkes sitting on his golden perch. But Fawkes was gone. He had flown away and hadn't returned.

"So, Mr. Potter, as I see you're not going to take a seat, I'll just ask. Have you perhaps seen something odd while you where out? This is really important."

Wait a min-

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!" Yelled Harry, jumping backwards, away from the man and drawing his wand.

It was suddenly all very clear to him: this man had cursed him – had done something with his brain. That was it! He _thought _that it was all real, it _looked _real, it _felt _real, but in reality it _wasn't _real!

"Mr. Potter, I do not underst-"

"Very clever." Harry interrupted coldly. "Clever curse, really. Almost had me fooled. Now take it off me before I'll get really pissed."

"Curse? I... Oh dear... You're not James..." The man – Harry refused to think of him as Dumbledore – looked shocked for a moment, which added to Harry's distrust. "Who are you then?"

"Who are _you_?" Snarled Harry, his wand pointed at the man. The casual use of his father's name had rubbed him in the wrong way.

The man raised his hand with his palms towards Harry as a sign he meant no harm, but Harry still kept his wand on him.

"I swear on my magic that I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Said the man calmly and as nothing happened, Harry's confusion was complete. This man – real and solid – was his former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who was in fact supposed to be dead. Just like the castle was supposed to be in ruins.

With a soft clatter Harry's wand fell on the floor and Dumbledore summoned it to him with a flick of his wrist. Harry, however, didn't notice this. The pieces where finally falling together and forming a picture that he didn't like at all.

"No." He whispered. "No way."

"I am so sorry, Mr...?"

"Potter." Answered Harry, still whispering.

"Ah, well at least I got that right!" Said Dumbledore cheerfully, before turning serious and placing a hand on his shoulder, steering him towards the guest chair in front of his desk. "Please, Mr. Potter, sit down and tell me what happened."

Harry let himself be pushed down in a soft chair. His mind had trouble processing the new found information that the solved puzzle had provided.

He had traveled back in time.

Really, how couldn't he have seen it before? He felt so stupid – all this hints and he still hadn't seen it. On top of that, he had yelled at Dumbledore! And he had gotten himself in trouble with McGonagall.

Oh, what the hell, what did it all matter? He had somehow managed to travel back in time! Time travel. He had done it before, with Hermione, but that had only been a few hours. This were years!

His clenched his fists when suddenly a voice in his head, sounding very much like Hermione's, said:

'Y_ou must not be seen!'_

Well, too late for that. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall had seen him, although they did not seem to know who he really was. McGonagall had thought he was a Head Boy and Dumbledore had thought he was...-

Bugger.

He had thought he was _James_. His father. Meaning that – his heart started to beat faster - his father was at Hogwarts and alive. Then that meant that his mother was also alive. That Sirius and Remus were alive. Everyone was alive! He could save them! He could change everything! He could-

And then the Hermione-voice butted in again.

_'But if you save them, you change history.'_

Yes, but that was the point, wasn't it? Changing history. Making sure they would live!

_'But,' _The annoying voice started again. _'if you don't let things happen like before, Voldemort will live and maybe kill them on an other occasion. And think of all the people that will die because you selfishly saved the people you love!'_

Harry almost groaned, wishing that he could ignore the voice and stop arguing with himself in his head, but he couldn't. So he gave the voice another answer, saying that _he_ could kill Voldemort, he had done before!

_'Ah, but back then you were the Master of the wand that Voldemort used, weren't you? You aren't now though! And you will never be able to beat him with sheer power alone!' _

He sighed in defeat, knowing that this was true: he could not defeat Voldemort this way, even though his ego said otherwise. He had to let everything happen the way it was supposed to happen, or else Voldemort would get more and more powerful. Besides, now that he thought of it, Dumbledore would never let him change things. The moment he would discover what Harry was doing, he would put a stop on it and try to reverse it. Everything to win the war.

"Mr. Potter...?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at Dumbledore, who was watching him with a slight frown on his face. Harry flashed a fake smile at him.

"Sorry sir, could you repeat that please? I'm afraid I dozed off a little." He said, trying to keep his mind focused on the conversation this time.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding, but the frown never left his face. "Of course, my dear boy. I asked you to tell me what happened."

"I..." Harry had to think for a second. "I don't really know... I opened a door, there was this really intense light and poof! I was here."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up, but his eyes twinkled merrily. "Please tell me some more, Mr. Potter. Where were you when the light appeared? What were you doing?" He asked.

"I was at the Ministry of Magic, professor" Answered Harry immediately. "I wasn't doing anything at that moment, but the door I opened let to the Dark Artifacts Room."

Dumbledore nodded and continued the questioning. "Any idea what could have send you here?"

"Yes, you see, me and my mate Ron were destroying some of those artifacts earlier that day." Said Harry and added, seeing the look on Dumbledore's face: "Auror training. Anyway, while we were doing that, some clocks exploded right in my face. I wasn't hurt, but the all the hands of those clocks had somehow landed in my hair. It was quite a pain removing them."

At that, Dumbledore suddenly leaned forward over his desk, digging his fingers in Harry's hair. Harry, not expecting this, let out a very unmanly yelp and quickly covered his mouth. Dumbledore pulled back with one of the hands in his long fingers. It seemed Harry had not been able to find all of them in his hair after all.

"Don't worry, I did not hear that." Said Dumbledore, which Harry doubted, seeing the clear amusement on the Headmaster's face. "But this is very interesting. This hand has a high magic level. Please tell me, what did those clocks look like?"

"Er... Well...They looked... old?" Harry honestly had no idea what those stupid clocks looked like. Only that they looked old and extremely ugly. They hadn't really been important at that moment. He just had to destroy them, which hadn't been needed after they had destroyed themselves. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't really remember." He added, feeling incredibly stupid.

Dumbledore was looking at him again, his expression unreadable, but Harry knew he was disappointed with the lack of information he had gotten out of him.

"Ah, well, then I have to do with this little piece of clock." Said Dumbledore, putting the hand in one of his desk's drawers. "I will let you know if I have found out anything more. Now I believe we have other things to discuss."

Harry stared at him rather blankly. "Other things...?"

"Yes, other things. I would like to know how many years you have traveled, your full name and we have to find you a place to stay while I try to figure out what those clocks have done to you and how to reverse it."

"Harry James Potter." Answered Harry, since he didn't know the answer to the other question. He was going to ask the date, but Dumbledore was faster.

"It's October 6, 1977."

"Twenty-three years." Harry said quietly, after a few moments of calculating in his head. Math had never been one of his strong subjects in primary school.

Dumbledore seemed to think for a moment. "Then I am probably right when I say James Potter is your father?" Harry nodded. "Right, well, that complicates things, but I still want to go with my original plan..."

"What plan?" Asked Harry, narrowing his eyes. He was quite sure that Dumbledore had _not _mentioned a plan before.

"My plan of where to let you live... You must agree with me that it is most convenient if you would stay close to me."

"Yes..." Said Harry, feeling there was a catch.

"Well, we can't keep you in the castle without a good reason and our Defence Agains the Dark Arts teacher has been, ah, missing for roughly two weeks now-"

"No." Harry interrupted, not needing to hear more to understand what Dumbledore wanted. "I refuse to teach here. I'll stay in Hogsmeade, that's close enough."

There had been a catch alright, him _teaching _here. It was not that he hated teaching and yes, he would be very happy to stay in this castle once again, but teaching while his parents were still in school? No way. There was no way he was going to go through the torture of having to look at them day after day, knowing that he was unable to safe them – knowing that they would die in a couple of years.

The same for Sirius and Remus. Seeing Sirius and knowing he would soon lose his best friend and would end up in Azkaban for crimes he didn't commit. Seeing Remus and knowing he would soon be all on his own. It would be unbearable.

He also didn't wish to see Wormtail again. Although the thought of giving him detention with Filch on every possible occasion was very tempting, it still wasn't worth it. He would have to hold himself back so he wouldn't hurt the bloody rat.

"Pity." Sighed Dumbledore, making Harry pay attention to him again. "You were my last chance. Now I'll have to let the Ministry know that I have not found a teacher. You see, they had given me very limited time to find another one – school has already started after all – and they would send someone they found suitable if I failed."

By the time Dumbledore finished talking, Harry's eye was twitching. 'Teacher the Ministry found suitable.' It brought back some unpleasant memories and he glared at the still visible scars on the back of his right hand. _I must not tell lies._

Dumbledore must have noticed the change in Harry's mood, because he was looking at him intently now, with a slightly hopeful glint in his eyes. Shuffling the parchment on his desk for show, he plucked one out from under a large pile. The parchment Dumbledore held in his hand was a sickly pink and – Harry's heart stopped beating for a moment – had a cute little kitten in the corner, that was lapping up milk from a evenly cute bowl, reading 'Snowy' on the side. After reading the letter over quickly, Dumbledore handed it over to Harry, who skimmed the note for a name – he didn't particularity care about the crap that the writer of this note sprouted – still hoping that it was someone other then Umbridge, just some other weird cat lover. This hope was, of course, in vain. There was only one woman in the Ministry that would even think about using such disgustingly cute pieces of parchment: Dolores Jane Umbridge.

"Her name is Dolores Umbridge." Said Dumbledore, completely unnecessary. Harry nodded, his yaws clenched together in silent anger. _Why her!_

"I know." He growled, not even trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "Bloody toad."

Dumbledore blinked and proceeded to ask to obvious in a calm voice: "Ah, so you are acquainted with her?"

"Unfortunately, yes."Answered Harry. "She was my Defense teacher in my 5th year. It was an utter disaster – you can't let her teach!" Somewhere in the middle of the sentence he had stood up and had started to yell. Dumbledore didn't reacted to this though, he merely smiled and his eyes started to twinkle even harder. Not understanding this reaction, Harry took a seat again. He had just revealed that that woman was awful, smiling and twinkling were not really an appropriate reaction, he thought.

"Ah, yes, that is very unfortunate, my dear boy." Said Dumbledore, smile widening. "Too bad she is my only choice, since you declined...But that's okay, I can understand that you don't wish to teach here..."

Harry knew what Dumbledore was doing: he was trying to make him feel guilty for not accepting the job offer and judging by the nasty feeling he was getting in his gut, it was working splendidly.

_'But,' _The nagging voice had returned one again and this time Harry was actually happy that is was there, for he had absolutely no idea what to do. _'teaching here will bring unwanted attention to you.'_

Yes, that was true. On the other hand, trouble always found him no matter what he did, so why bother keeping out of sight?

_'There is a small chance that that won't happen.'_ Was the voice's weak argument. It was however completely ignored by Harry, who had decided to take the leap.

"Fine, I'll do it." Mumbled Harry and he was sure Dumbledore looked smug when the words left his mouth, though Dumbledore managed to hide it after a few seconds. Had Harry blinked, he would have missed it. It irritated him, but he suppressed the feeling. Getting angry right now wasn't useful and besides, he thought he had made the right choice.

Now that he thought of it, he would be kept busy at Hogwarts, which was a very good thing. Harry didn't know what he would have done if he had actually decided to stay on his own in Hogsmeade, with not a single thing to do all day. He wouldn't have had a job and he didn't know anyone except Dumbledore. He was sure that after a while, his mind would be invaded by ideas of changing the future anyway. That would also happen while staying in Hogwarts, that he was sure of, but by staying here he had people to remind him that he shouldn't change things.

A clock chimed twelve times, informing them that the next day had begun.

"Well, let's speed this up a little, shall we?" Dumbledore opened a drawer and pulled out some parchment. "You need to fill these in for the Ministry. As for the name, I'll think of something. Just fill in the things you can now."

Harry accepted the parchment and started to fill them in. He skipped the name part, filled in his age, date of birth, proceeded to skip his address (he simply didn't have one here) and then stopped at the education part. He hadn't thought of this before, but he had never actually finished school. He voiced his concerns to Dumbledore, who was quite surprised by the information that Harry dropped out, until he heard it had been 'necessary'. Harry then was allowed to use his O.W.L. grades as his N.E.W.T grades, which made his overall grade pretty amazing.

"What about Alastaire Aesalon?" Dumbledore suddenly suggested, sounding quite pleased with himself.

Fully prepared to laugh, Harry looked up. Dumbledore looked serious though, to Harry's horror. Seriously, _Alastaire Aesalon? _No way. No freaking way.

"Er, no thanks, sir." Said Harry, choosing his wording very carefully. "Perhaps a simpler name would suite me better, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes, perhaps you're right," Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Please refrain from calling me 'sir' though. Seeing as you're a member of the staff now, you shall call me by my first name, Albus. That being said, what about Robert? Robert...Baker?"

"Robert Baker is fine, sir- Albus." Said Harry, writing the name down. At least it was a normal name. "But what about the Ministry? I'm pretty sure they don't have my name in their registers. Won't they find that a bit suspicious?"

But Dumbledore waved his concerns away, eyes twinkling. "Just leave that to me, _Robert_. And your address is Hogwarts now, just fill that in."

Harry finished filling in his forms and Dumbledore beamed at him. "Now for your appearance. I guess you can understand that you can't look like this. You and your father look to much like each other. Are you able to disguise yourself?"

"A little, I guess. I can change my hair color and texture..." Said Harry, biting his lip. He now wished he had payed more attention during those lessons.

"Right, leave that to me then." Dumbledore drew his wand and pointed it at Harry, who closed his eyes. A moment later, Dumbledore told him he was done and Harry conjured a mirror.

He gasped – he didn't recognize himself at all! His face was more angular then before, his glasses were gone and his hair was straight and brown. The only familiar thing in his face were his eyes.

"Yes, I left your eyes green. I figured that it would be better if I left something that reminds you of who you are." Said Dumbledore quietly. "Now, my dear new professor Baker! Your office, quarters and classroom are on the first floor. Password to your quarters is 'knackered', say this to the portrait of the talking hippogriff in your office."

With this, Harry was dismissed. He received one last big smile before Dumbledore closed the door and as Harry took the long walk to the first floor, he already started to question himself whether he had made the right decision. But – he took a deep breath – there was no turning back now.


	4. Chapter 4

Sirius Black was having a particularly bad morning. He and his friends had overslept and there were barely five minutes left to eat breakfast. Something that didn't make him happy either was that all three of said friends were whining about things he didn't care about, something his forming headache did not approve of.

"...really shouldn't have gone out last night-"

"...but you see, she's just utter perfection-"

"...hope there are still some doughnuts left-"

"...that red hair and those eyes-"

"...lost so many points-"

"... maybe I should take a muffin for a change... Yeah, I'll do that-"

Even when they had arrived at the Great Hall and had taken a seat at the Gryffindor table, the whining didn't stop. He had long since learned to tune out Moony's whining about losing points – Sirius knew he loved being mischievous like the rest of the Marauders, he just hid it better – but today was one of those days he wasn't able to.

Wormtail's rambling about food wasn't new either. Sirius had always wondered how anyone could care so much about food, it just didn't make sense to him. Fine, he too liked some nice food once in a while, but it wasn't his reason to live! No, no, that would be the Marauders, pranks, girls, pestering Snape and motorcycles!

Prongs talked about his reason to live all the time, as he was doing now as well. Sirius actually hoped he would get over the girl and _fast_. This was getting ridiculous. James could get all the girls he wanted – no wait, that wasn't true, he, _Sirius_, could get all the girls he wanted, but James did okay too – but he had only eyes for that red haired harpy.

Just as Sirius was considering stuffing his ears with toast, the Headmaster stood up and asked for silence.

"Good morning, dear Hogwarts students!" Said Dumbledore, beaming at them like they were his own children. "I have an announcement to make! I guess the students that are actually awake have already noticed the new face here at the High Table! I'd like you to welcome your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher: professor Robert Baker!"

Everyone focused on the new teacher, who was staring at his plate and was absentmindedly munching on a piece of toast. He didn't react in any way, until McGonagall kicked him in the shin and he jumped to his feet, looking slightly bewildered. There was a rather unenthusiastic applause. Next to Sirius, Remus sighed and he could see James shake his head.

"Dumbledore must have been really desperate." Said James. "He looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here."

Remus sighed again. "Hopeless. This is going to be hopeless. And I was really hoping we would get a decent teacher for a change."

Peter nodded feverishly and took a bite out of his muffin.

"Peter, you don't even take Defense, why do you care?" Asked Sirius in a bored voice. Not waiting for an answer, he continued talking. "Merlin, it won't even be fun pranking him! We might give him a heart attack! Look at the guy!"

Professor Baker had now given up eating at all and was shifting in his seat. His eyes seemed to be permanently fixed on either his plate or the ceiling.

"We have his class this afternoon." Groaned James, looking at his schedule. "Can't say I'm excited..."

The bell rang and the Marauders got up, preparing themselves for a morning in the Greenhouses.

~O.o.O.o.O~

Harry stood up when the bell rang, wiping off his clammy hands on his plain black robes. He was dead tired, but he hoped those three cups of coffee he had drunk would get him through the day.

He hadn't slept all night, instead he had paced up and down his quarters and had kicked and punched the walls in defeat and anger. He had tried to sleep at first, but his mind didn't let him. He started to think about what he left behind, about the people he had left behind. This was when he had started to lose his cool.

He had first thought of Ron – he had vanished right in front of his best friend. Ron must have freaked out and had probably run straight to Hermione, although the proper procedure would have been to alert the Head Auror. Hermione would tell Ron to get help and would start to go over everything she knows in her head and then run towards a place with books. Of course, they would inform his girlfriend as well. Ginny.

While thinking of her and the fact that they where separated, he had damaged the plaster on one of his walls by giving it a good hard kick. More kicks followed the more he thought about her.

He wasn't able to see her anymore, no matter how much he wanted to. Time was between them – they officially weren't even born yet. He felt so helpless. He was here and she was there. What if she met someone while he was gone? What if she would forget about him? Harry absolutely hated the fact that he could do nothing about it and he hated that he couldn't blame her if she did indeed find someone else. She had no idea where he was – for all she knew, he was dead!

The pessimist in him was really warming up now and he started to think about all the things he'd never experience anymore. He'd never see her smile again, never smell her scent again, never hug her again, never kiss her again, never– There were so many 'never again's that it almost made him scream.

At six in the morning, he decided he had had enough of brooding in his room, so he showered and went to the Great Hall, where he met Dumbledore. Dumbledore had handed him his schedule and recommended the eggs to him. A few minutes later Flitwick came in, who had squeaked excitedly at seeing the new teacher and had rushed forward to shake his hand. In the five minutes after that, the other faculty members had slowly dripped in and more hands were shaken. He knew most of the staff, though some of them were unfamiliar, like the Muggle Studies professor and the Divination professor. The way the Divination professor, Solaris Fountain, exclaimed he had already known that Harry would come, reminded him a lot of professor Trelawney and with that in mind, he had made sure there were at least three people between him and Fountain. He now sat with Dumbledore on his left and McGonagall on his right

Harry had almost immediately gotten on the bad side of McGonagall, when he accidentally spilled his coffee on her robes when he was trying to get out of a conversation with Slughorn. These were, as he found out in a ten minute rant, her favorite robes and they now were, apparently, ruined.. Suggesting she could just vanish the coffee with magic earned him a glare and a lecture about preserving the quality of robes, after which he wisely kept his mouth shut.

After that, he had gotten himself a piece of toast and had made pleasant small talk with Flitwick, leaning forward over the table to do so, until the first students started to come in. He recognized a few faces, which unnerved him. Every time one of these students looked at him and pointed him out to their friends, he had the feeling they knew who he really was, that they knew that he didn't belong here. This was, of course, ridiculous, but he couldn't shake the feeling off, so he resorted into looking solemnly at his plate. He could still feel the stares, but he found that he could deal with it better when he couldn't see their faces.

While he was munching his toast, Dumbledore had announced the arrival of the new professor 'Baker', a name Harry was not used reacting to. So, with him busy being paranoid, it didn't register that Dumbledore had meant him and that he was supposed to stand up, until McGonagall kicked him in the shin. She did this a little harder then necessary, or so Harry thought, probably because she was still mad at him for ruining her robes.

He resisted the urge to yelp, which would have made him even more embarrassed then he already was. He didn't get much applause, which made his heart sink a little, but he could understand why. He probably looked like an idiot. Well, that was okay, because he felt like an idiot too.

With a sigh, he fell back into his seat again and saw a flash of bright red hair at one of the tables – the Gryffindor table. His heart started beating so fast that it felt as if it was trying to bonk itself a way through his chest.

It didn't mean he had seen _her _- there where many people with red hair. It could have been any Gryffindor girl with red hair. It hadn't necessarily been his mother. Maybe a Weasley, or-

Harry started when he felt a warm hand on his arm and he turned around to find McGonagall smiling at him, which was a rare sight for him indeed.

"Don't worry." She said, confusing Harry. "I was nervous on my first day too. It will get better when you are busy teaching, you'll see." She gave him a stiff nod and turned back to her bacon.

He shifted in his seat and looked at the enchanted ceiling above him. It had been really nice of McGonagall to say this, but he already knew – he did have experience with teaching after all – this wasn't his problem though, of course. He didn't blame her for getting it wrong. It wasn't like she could have known about his fears. His fear to see disappointment when he looked into his father's or mother's face. His fear to make a fool out of himself in front of his loved ones. His fear that he'd be discovered. He had so many fears that it almost made his heart stop when he thought about them.

Someone prodded him and whispered in his ear: "Are you alright, Harry?"

He didn't have to look up to know it was Dumbledore, he was the only one who knew about Harry's real identity after all, but he did it anyway. His green eyes met twinkling blue ones, that seemed to look into the deepest of his soul.

"I'm scared." Said Harry truthfully. He cringed. It sounded so childish, as if he was afraid of the monsters under his bed.

"Understandable." Hummed Dumbledore. "But I'm afraid you have to go to class now, you have a impression to make. Students can be quite... harsh... at times, remember that..."

Dumbledore said no more, but Harry understood. He was to go to class right now and be awesome, because he already made a lousy first impression on the students. If he screwed up his first lessons, he could forget it with the students, he knew that, so he thanked Dumbledore and walked out of the hall in a fast pace.

He found his class, which he learned was a fifth year class consisting of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs when he took a glance at his schedule, waiting in front of his classroom. He was happy to see them make way for him so he could reach the door, instead of staying were they were and making it difficult for him. He tapped the door with his wand, opened it and stepped aside to let the students in first.

He hadn't looked at the classroom yet, so when he came in he had to blink a couple of time, before wrinkling his nose in disgust. The whole room was covered in Dark Detectors. This man must have been frigging paranoid! Not that it had done him any good though, because he could imagine what had happened to him. People going 'missing' rarely came back.

He picked up a Foe-Glass and noticed that it had cracked and he could see nothing in it. Either it was because someone had broken it or because its owner was dead. Harry suspected the latter and vanished it, as it had no use anymore. A quick look over the room learned him that there were at least five more useless Foe-Glasses. He decided he would clean this room up in his break, walked up to the front of the class and cleared his throat. His breath hitched when at least twenty pairs of eyes were suddenly fixed upon him.

"Er... Hello. I'm professor Baker, as you already know, because professor Dumbledore already said this and I will teach you Defense Against the Dark Arts this year and... er..." He took a deep breath and heard a few snickers, but plunged on. "Does anybody know where your former professor kept his lesson plans and class lists?"

He was glad when a helpful Hufflepuff raised her hand and told him to look in the desk drawer. There he did indeed find the lesson plans and class lists and also a list of what each year had learned in the years up until this year. It made him frown.

"Please tell me they forgot to add some things." He said hotly, looking at his class. They all looked back at him in innocent bewilderment.

"Boggarts. You haven't even covered boggarts?" Asked Harry, though this was not all they hadn't covered yet according to the list. A hand shot up, this time it was a Slytherin.

"It was mentioned, professor. We had to read a chapter on them, so we know the basics." The Slytherin boy said, straightening in his seat. A lot of students repeated the motion and only after a few moments Harry understood that he had hurt the students' pride when mentioning them not knowing about such creatures.

"Right, Mr...?"

"Nettles, professor, Timothly Nettles."

"Mr Nettles then. Reading up on them and knowing the basics is not enough. You must understand that a boggart turns into your greatest fear. Even when you've practiced with them, they can still take you by surprise." When he received a disbelieving look, he added: "I know a woman, she is a great witch, but the boggart taking the shape of her dead children and husband was too much for her." he sighed. "But this is all beside the point." He looked at the list again. "I'm going to have to make new lesson plans, you can't take your O.W.L's like this!"

A concerned murmur started, but Harry did nothing to make them stop talking. It was good if the gravity of the situation would sink in, he thought, it would make them work harder. He skimmed trough the class list, stopping a few times at some names he recognized. He then took a glance at his schedule and panic started to take over again. He had seventh years today and his parents were in either their sixth or their seventh year, or so he thought.

He felt so stupid for not checking this while he was awake last night: it would have been very useful right now. But he had to know, so he pulled the sheet with seventh year students towards him and started to read each name one by one. His fears were quickly confirmed when he read the third name on the list. _Sirius Black. _Behind the name was a untidy scribble, which read: _'Note to self: don't accept anything he offers you. Don't wish to repeat orange paint fiasco again.' _

After a double take, the name was still there and Harry could safely assume that he was screwed. He didn't know if he could handle this yet, he could barely handle a class of fifth year students with a few familiar faces and-

_CRAP_! His class!

He jumped up from his seat at the desk, startling the student sitting in front of him so much that she fell out of her chair.

"Right, er, don't be worried, we'll cover it all as soon as possible." He said, remembering what he was talking about before. "Now, were you studying something specific before your professor disappeared?"

His eyebrows rose when the murmuring started again, this time paired with the shaking of heads and a few 'no's'.

"We were supposed to be studying defensive spells." A shy voice piped up. It was the student who had fallen off her seat just moments before.

"_Supposed to!_" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. What had this teacher been doing during his lessons? Stare out of the window?

"Well, yes, but he didn't instruct much... He just kept looking at those mirrors of him." She muttered, looking as if she wished she hadn't said anything.

Harry nodded. "Thank you for the information, Ms...?"

"Moon, sir."

"Ms. Moon, did he ever tell you what those mirrors are?" When she shook her head, he addressed the whole class. "Does any of you know what those 'mirrors' are? Or any of the other devices in this classroom?"

Only a few hands were raised, hesitatingly, and Harry smiled. He had just found something he could teach them and this would effectively keep his mind off his afternoon class.


	5. Chapter 5

He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

Harry was standing in his office, only a foot away from the door to his classroom, which was already filled with seventh years. They had been able to walk in after lunch without him having to open the door for them, because he had left it wide open. He did this so he wouldn't have to face them right away. He had thought it to be a good idea at the time, but now he was having second thoughts.

He groaned and took a few deep breaths, urging himself to just open the door and get it over with, but his body didn't listen. He was so afraid, afraid he would break down as soon as he set one step in there.

A loud bang could be heard from the classroom and and Harry gritted his teeth. They were breaking down his classroom - his _seventh years_ were breaking down his classroom.

His hand landed on the doorknob and he was about the push it open, when he heard a voice yell. It was a girl and she was ordering people to stop – to show some respect. At least, that was how Harry interpreted it.

"MERLIN! Sit down! Sit _down, _I said! What are you, a bunch of rabid monkeys! You are destroying the classroom, really, what are you thinking!"

Okay, that was it. It was his duty as a teacher to stop this and he couldn't let this girl do something that was his responsibility. With this in mind, he opened the door and stepped inside his classroom. The first thing he noticed was the yelling girl. The yelling red haired Gryffindor girl. It took all his courage not to turn around and flee, but he somehow managed to stay were he was.

And then he saw the rest of the class.

He couldn't believe his eyes. His seventh years were hexing each other, yelling, screaming. On his right, two girls had thrown their wands aside and were pulling large tufts of hair out of each others head. On his left he could swear he saw Severus Snape with broccoli growing out of his nose. And right in front of him was the girl, trying to stop them all. That was, until she was hit by some spell that gave her purple spots and she joined the fight.

For a moment, all he could do was stand there, a stoney expression on his face. Underneath this expression was a boiling pit of emotions, though. Nerves, fear, sadness, disbelieve and anger clashed and Harry snapped.

He raised his wand in the air in one violent motion, emitting a few loud bangs. Most of the students stopped fighting at the first bang, other took a little longer to notice the noise and the livid teacher in front of the class.

"What-the-hell." Said Harry, when they were all quiet. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! This is just... just unbelievable. You actually-"

"The Slytherins started it! They insulted us!" Someone interrupted and Harry glared at the person, who turned out to be no other than a young James Potter. Luckily for Harry, James didn't look anything like himself at the moment, since he was partly transformed into some kind of insect, so it was easier for Harry to stay mad and not get all weepy.

"How old are you?" Asked Harry in a icy voice.

"They called us – what?"

"How-old-are-you?" He repeated, slowly.

"I, well, I'm 17, but-"

"Really? Because I could have sworn you were acting like a five year old just now."

"But … I … Professor – That's not fair! I wasn't the only one!" Sputtered James

"Oh, I know that." Said Harry, turning back to the rest of the students, of which the majority was laughing. "STOP LAUGHING! You are no better than he is – you are seventh years for crying out loud! You are supposed to know better than this! Now, SIT DOWN!"

Seeing the students run to their chairs as fast as they could felt weird, but altogether very pleasing. It was even weirder when he thought of the fact that these people were supposed to be older than him – although currently _he_ was older than them – but... He gave up as his mind started spinning.

It took some time for all the students to reach their seats, seeing as they kept bumping into each other and some of them were rather badly hexed. When they were all seated, only a few dared to look at him. Most were content with looking at their table.

"Congratulations," Said Harry, earning quite a few confused looks. "you all just lost your house 20 points. Each." A lot of students started complaining loudly, but Harry continued talking as if he didn't hear a thing. "Now, what shall I do with you?"

A Ravenclaw raised her hand and said, with a look at her friend whose teeth were turned into winegums: "Let us go to the Hospital Wing? Please? Sir?"

Harry looked at her for a moment. He had to admit, the students looked very bad, but they had also brought this on themselves. As far as he could tell, nobody was in any danger, so he shook his head.

"No, no. You all did this to each other. So this is what well do: we're going to figure out what hit each of you and how to reverse it. And when I say we, I mean you."

~O.o.O.o.O~

She hadn't believed it at first, she had thought it to be a joke. A bad joke, but really, a joke. But, as it turned out, professor Baker had been very serious when he had said that they were not allowed to go to the Hospital Wing.

Of course it was very satisfactory to see Potter and Black cringe at this, but it wasn't fair to the ones that were (mostly) innocent. She herself didn't have that much of a problem, she was only sporting weird purple spots. That was not why she was fuming silently in her seat. It was because her friends had not been as lucky as she was.

She looked up as the professor started speaking again and she saw that he was holding up the class list.

"Let's see... Ms. Mary MacDonald, could you come up here, please?"

Lily watched as Mary got up, blushing furiously and holding up her rather large blonde mustache so she would not step on it. A few people laughed, but they shut up when Baker shot them a glare.

"Who can tell me what spell was used on her?" Asked professor Baker when Mary had finally reached the front of the class. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Smith, Adrian Smith, sir. She was hit with a Hair-Thickening Charm, I think." Answered Smith, a very pompous Ravenclaw prefect that Lily didn't like one bit. She had to admit it amused her to see that he looked a bit like a monkey now, with all the fur that he had grown after he was hexed.

"True, but how do we reverse it?" Asked Baker and as nobody answered, Lily slowly raised her hand. Baker's eyes found hers for a split second, before they fixed themselves on her forehead. "Yes? Ms...?"

"Lily Evans, sir. And, er," She said, trying to catch his eyes by leaning back a bit in her chair. She failed though, as he turned towards a window when she did this. "Finite should work."

"Yes, Finite definitely works with this spell. Yes." Said Baker, running a hand through his hair and blinking a few times.

Lily noticed two odd scars in this one movement: one on his right hand and one on his forehead. He then flicked his wand towards Mary, canceling the spell on her, but stopped her when she tried to walk toward her seat again.

"No, please stay here for a moment, Ms. MacDonald. Er..." He looked at the class list again and frowned. "Mr. Evan Rosier?"

Rosier had a lot more trouble walking to the front of the class than Mary, but Baker did nothing to help him and none of Rosier's housemates dared to help, in fear of being glared at. The rest of the class couldn't be bothered much, since the Slytherin was known to hex first years and was therefor not really liked.

Rosier fell a couple of times, but managed to get in front of the class, although it took him a good three minutes to walk that few meters. Professor Baker whistled lowly and raised his eyebrows.

"Ouch, someone did a right job on you, mate!" He said, not sounding very sorry about that at all.

Lily glanced around the class and saw that Potter leaned back in his chair, looking positively smug. It was a funny look on a half insect and she wasn't able to hold in a snort. She froze when Baker glanced at her, but he looked away again without saying anything, making her wonder if he had actually heard her or not. Well, at least Potter had heard her, because he was looking at her with a pout and something akin to hurt in his eyes. Not that she cared or anything that he felt hurt. No, she really didn't. Really.

She quickly looked away from Potter, who she realized she had been staring at, and looked at Rosier and Mary. The professor was letting Mary do some counter-spells on Rosier, who had already been relieved from his jelly legs and twitching ears. Mary was now trying to spell away some nasty looking boils, but was not fairing very well: she only managed to shrink them, not to make them disappear.

"Try not to make your wand movements so big." Instructed Baker. "It's makes the spell weaker."

Mary tried again and this time the boils all disappeared.

"Good job, Ms. MacDonald, you can return to your seat now. Mr. Rosier, you stay here to help... hm..." Professor Baker had grabbed the class list again and was frowning. After a few moments of chewing the inside of his cheek, he seemed to have made a decision. "Ms. Lily Evans, please come up here."

Lily jumped up when she heard her name and sped to the front of the class. Baker watched her until she was a few meters away from him. He then started fidgeting with the parchment on his desk.

"Okay, well, purple spots. Great." He mumbled.

~O.o.O.o.O~

Merlin. Why had he asked her to come to the front of the class again? _Why?_

Oh yes, of course, he had thought he could handle it. Brilliant, Potter, brilliant. Thinking he could handle seeing his young mother up close – looking at her when she answered his question had been difficult enough! He hadn't even been able to look her in the eyes. Instead he had found out that she had a pretty forehead and that it was sunny outside. Pathetic.

"Sir? Sir?"

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and stared blankly at the two teens in front of him.

"Counter-spell? Sir?"

"Oh, right." He _really _needed to stop thinking. "Sorry. Jetlag."

Harry rubbed his eyes for show, but it hadn't really been a lie: it _had_ been a different time of the day were he came from after all.

"Oh really?" The redhead said, sounding excited. "Were do you come from, professor?"

Harry took one glance at her, but looked away when his heart sped up to a speed that was definitely not healthy.

"Australia." He answered, hoping that sounded acceptable enough.

"Yes, Australia is rather far away, sir." She nodded. Harry noticed she was trying to catch his eye, so he started looking at the ceiling.

"Yes, it really is. Has funny animals as well. Mr. Rosier, how do you think we can reverse this spell?"

The change of subject had not really been subtle, but Harry didn't care about that right now.

He turned to Rosier, who had started really badly when Harry addressed him. Harry suspected this was because Rosier had repeatedly pretended to kick him when he had his back turned to the boy. What Rosier didn't know, was that Harry was an Auror trainee and that he was trained to always notice what was happening behind his back.

"Oh, uh, Finite, sir?" Stuttered Rosier.

"That's right. Do it."

Rosier preformed the spell quickly and the spots vanished. He then turned on the spot and speed walked to his seat.

"Well done and ten points from Slytherin for pretending to kick me when I wasn't looking at you." Said Harry calmly, holding up the class list in front of his face so he couldn't see his mother.

Now what? Who to call forward?

He looked around the class over the parchment and noticed a certain group of students not looking at him. To his shock, they were watching James Potter, who had started to sweat furiously and kept wiping his brow every few seconds. Harry didn't really have a choice after seeing this.

"Mr. James Potter, can you walk up here, please?" He said quietly, hoping that his father was okay.

James stood up and lost balance for a moment, but Sirius caught him by the arm. He then shuffled carefully towards Harry and Lily. The latter sped towards him and helped him walk.

It was an unique sight for Harry: his mother supporting the half insect, half man that was his father. In a way, it was really adorable. Harry remembered just in time that he was standing in front of a whole class and that he had to control his expression, or else he didn't know what the class would have seen on his face.

"Let's see what happened to you, shall we?" Said Harry, ignoring his rapid heartbeat and the funny feeling in his gut for a moment.

He looked the boy once over and frowned. James had a pair of antennae sticking out of his head, a freaky pair of extra arms, brownish skin and, judging from the bulk under his robes, he had wings as well. What was worse, was that Harry didn't dare to reverse this partial information, because sweating wasn't something that was supposed to happen. The spell wasn't done wrong, so that only left-

"Mr. Potter, please answer honestly, did you take any kind of potion in the last 24 hours?" He asked urgently. If this wasn't the case, he really would have to start worrying.

To his relieve, James nodded and murmured: "Turned me into a frog for a few minutes."

Harry was momentarily reminded of the Canary Creams the Weasley twins had invented, but didn't dwell on that thought for too long.

"Anyone else that took any potions in the last 24 hours? Be honest, please." He asked the whole class. A few hands shot up. "Okay, you all go to the Hospital Wing and tell Madam Pomfrey what happened and what potion you took. Ms. Evans, please help Mr. Potter walk."

As the students hurried out of the room, Harry wished he could accompany them himself, but he couldn't leave his class. He knew his father would be okay – otherwise he wouldn't be standing here anymore – but he was still worried.

Harry was pretty close to telling them all to just go to the Hospital Wing, but he hold himself back.

Yes, he felt shitty, but letting all of them leave right now would make him look weak. He couldn't have them walk over him the rest of the year, that would be to much on top of the rest of his problems, so he shook himself mentally and continued calling students forward.

The rest of the lesson went rather well. The only times his heart and nerves were put to the test, were the times that either Sirius or Remus had stood right in front of him. It had been the worst with Sirius, since he had been a lot closer to him than to Remus.

Harry had managed to look Remus in the eyes for the few moments that were necessary, but when it came to Sirius, he found out that he just couldn't do it. So, just as Harry had done with Lily, he had focused on something else when he talked to him. His focus point had been a hair on top of Sirius' head that had stood up. It was a really funny hair, it had a small curl in it and it moved a bit when Harry talked.

That night, when Harry lay in his bed, attempting to sleep, he thought back to his day. He whacked his head a few times with his pillow when he thought back to how he had acted around his parents, Remus and Sirius. Somehow, he didn't think that this feeling and the speeding up of his heart he got when he saw them would ever go away. He would never get used to this.

_Damn,_ Was his last thought before he fell asleep. _I'll get a stroke if this continues._


	6. Chapter 6

The Hospital Wing. James hated it – the white walls, the white crispy clean sheets, the smell. It was simply too clean and tidy. Too boring. Or maybe he had just been here too often.

Yes, he'd definitely been here too often. He could deduct that from the fact that he knew that the bed by the window creaked when you moved, but was excellent for spying on people on the grounds, that if you lay in the third bed from the door you could see a crack in the ceiling in the shape of a smiling face (which is really annoying if you're laying there in pain), that Madam Pomfrey had the nasty habit of singing Selestina Warbeck songs when she thought that her patients were sleeping and that there was no way you could escape from the Hospital Wing (and he had tried many, many times).

Merlin, was he bored. Madam Pomfrey had forced him to stay the night and she had still not let him go. It was already noon for crying out loud!

He took a deep breath and, for the fifth time in ten minutes, called out: "Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" No reaction whatsoever. "Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfreeey! Madam-"

"What!" She finally snapped, walking out of the nurses office.

"Hi." Said James with a sheepish grin.

Madam Pomfrey pulled at her hair in frustration and said: "Potter! Please stop doing that!"

"But I'm bored!" Whined James, looking like a little puppy that has just been kicked. "If you would just let my friends in..."

But Madam Pomfrey had long since learned to ignore the kicked puppy look, so it didn't help him one bit.

"No, Potter."

"But-"

"No, I'm not letting them in! Last time I made the mistake to let them visit you, I ended up with a Hospital Wing in all the colors of the rainbow!"

"I thought it looked good." James sulked. "It was certainly more fun to be here with the Wing looking like that."

"This place is not meant to be _fun_, Potter. Remember that the next time you decide to do something stupid that will land you here." She said with her hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face.

"I didn't – OI!" Madam Pomfrey had turned around and walked to the nurses office, completely ignoring him.

James let his head sink into the pillow again, very aware of his throbbing headache now that he had nothing to distract him.

Damn. He just really, really hated this place. And he hated Baker. A lot.

"Ugh. Baker. Stupid no-good bastard!" He growled.

"He's not that bad, James."

James sat up so fast that it went black in front of his eyes, but even after he had blinked the darkness away, he still saw nobody.

"Sirius! Rem-" A hand over his mouth made it impossible for him to finish.

"Bloody hell, do you want us to get caught?"

James heard a bit of rustling and then two of his best friends appeared beside his bed. Sirius had one of his hands over James' mouth and the other held a cloak – James' invisibility cloak to be precise. Remus was pointing his wand at the door to the nurses office.

"Muffliato. So, now we can talk. Sirius, let go of him."

Sirius only then seemed to realize he still had a hand over his best friend's mouth and quickly pulled away.

"Bwaah." Breathed James. "I almost suffocated, mate!"

"You could have breathed through your nose, idiot." Said Remus absentmindedly, rummaging in his bag. He then pulled out a piece of parchment. "Here, the homework Baker gave us. We have to write down what we'd do if we were suddenly attacked by a group of Death Eaters. Due to next Wednesday."

James snorted. "Simple: fight them. Stupid question."

Remus and Sirius glanced at each other. Sirius shrugged.

"Hey, mate, what do you have against Baker? I mean, yes he got mad, but we did kind of deserve it." Said Sirius tentatively.

"He has the hots for Lily!" Exclaimed James. Then, when all he got were two disbelieving stares: "What! He has! He got all nervous and shifty around her, didn't you notice!"

"Oh dear Merlin, not this again." Sirius groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"James... You've got it wrong..." Said Remus softly.

James stared at Remus disbelievingly. Baker had not dared to look Lily in the eyes, had tumbled over his words when in her presence and, well, just acted nervous in general. How could his friends not see that?

"No, I haven't" He finally said.

"Yes you have, because he acted the same way around Sirius. Following your theory, that means professor Baker fancies him as well."

James looked from Remus to Sirius and then at his hands.

"Fine." He said, sounding in no way genuine. "But what about how he talks?"

"What has that to do with anything-?" Started Sirius bewildered, but James just kept talking.

"He says he's from Australia, but his accent is British! There's something wrong him, I mean it!"

"Prongs. Stop it. You're just looking for an excuse to hate the guy. Professor Baker probably lived in Britain before he moved to Australia." Said Remus.

James could tell his two friends were getting irritated, so he decided to drop it for now. He wasn't going to let it go though. There was something fishy about this guy, he could feel it. He also fancied Lily (and apparently Sirius too, if he should believe Remus), which made him even more determined to find some dirt on Baker.

"I liked his lesson." Said Sirius suddenly, making James stare at him. Sirius rarely liked lessons. "I learned lots. Like that Snivellus cries when he has vegetables growing out of his nose."

"He cried because _somebody_ turned his underpants into never melting ice." Remus gave Sirius a withering glare.

Sirius responded with giving Remus his best 'who _me_?' look, which Remus didn't buy. "I saw you do it, genius."

Sirius pouted and retorted: "Yeah, well, but I saw you hexing Wilkes!"

"Self-defense." Stated Remus. "He suddenly started throwing spells at me, I had no other choice but to defend myself."

"Suuure." Muttered Sirius. He then turned to James, his eyes shining. "But anyway, Prongs, want to give escaping this place a shot again?"

~O.o.O.o.O~

The parchment in front of him was annoyingly empty, except for the title on top of it: What would I do if I was attacked by Death Eaters?' Severus Snape had absolutely no idea what to write down. Writing the truth was out, so that meant he had to lie... But what could he write without sounding too much like a Gryffindor?

"Ugh, I give up." Next to Severus, Evan Rosier threw his quill down. "I just don't know what to write."

"I know what you mean." Said Severus, following Evan's example and throwing his quill down as well.

"I mean, the thing I would do if I met a group of Death Eaters, is join them, but somehow I don't think Baker would appreciate an answer like that." Continued Evan grimly.

Severus nodded slowly. "Yes... You're right. And writing down that I would fight them, would make me sound like – like Potter." He shuddered and Evan sneered.

"Yeah, wouldn't want that, but we can't say we would run either – I can already imagine Baker's face when he read that." He made a face like he was smelling something disgusting. "Anyway," He picked up his quill again and tapped it against his chin. " what do you think of him?"

"Baker? He's a bastard. He let me sit an hour like...Well, you know." Growled Severus, clenching his fists. "I bet Potter and Black had a good laugh about that one."

"Wasn't personal though." Evan countered. "He just randomly picked names off our class list."

"He let Potter leave."

"Potter was almost literally sweating out of his clothes, Baker had no choice but to let him leave. It was gross."

Severus ignored him and grabbed his Potions book out of his bag. He knew Evan was right, but he just didn't think James Potter deserved anything, not even a fair treatment.

James Potter. The boy who humiliated him day after day. The boy who had been chasing after Lily for years now and was still trying.

Lily.

Oh, how he regretted that day. He wished he could go back and undo it. To make it so that they would still be friends, that he could see Lily smile at him again. He missed the way her magnificent green eyes would brighten when she got an idea, missed her conversations. He just missed her.

But he had lost her.

"Heard anything from Lucius lately?" Evan interrupted Severus' rather depressing thoughts. Severus nodded.

"Yes. He did it."

Evan whole body suddenly tensed and his eyes got wide. He stared at Severus, who was calmly reading some boring complicated potions text.

"He told the Dark Lord-?"

"That we wish to join him after graduation. Yes."

Severus knew that he could never win Lily Evans' friendship back again. It was too late. The damage was done.

Sadly, this didn't make it hurt less.

~O.o.O.o.O~

The redhead Severus was thinking about was scratching her nose with her wand at that very moment. She was sitting on her bed in her dorm, practicing transfiguration on her pillow. She wasn't fairing very well, her mind kept wandering. She kept thinking about the odd man that was Robert Baker, but most of all, she thought about James Potter.

She had helped him walk to the Hospital Wing and he hadn't asked her out even once. When they had arrived in the Hospital Wing, she had dumped him on one of the beds and had turned around to leave, but he had grabbed her hand and _thanked_ her. He had thanked her with this really serious look on his face that she wasn't used to seeing there. She had tried to get away then, but he had hold onto her hand and told her that he had been a right git all of those years and that he hoped that they at least could be friends. Because he really, really liked her.

Lily felt her face grow hot and absentmindedly waved her wand at her pillow, which caught fire.

"Whoa, Lily, didn't know you were going to burn down the Gryffindor tower! You should have called me!" A cheerful voice called from the doorway.

"Shut up, Marlene." Said Lily, feeling embarrassed. "Help me put it out, yes?"

"Aye!" Marlene hopped forward and cast Aquamenti, soaking both the pillow and Lily, who had been trying to put the fire out by hitting it with her cloak.

"Marlene!"

"Just did what you asked." Shrugged Marlene. She then frowned. "Damn. I had something to tell you, but I forgot what..."

"Probably wasn't important than." Said Lily, glaring at Marlene while wringing the water out of her hair.

"No, no, no. Wait." The brunette snapped her fingers a few times. "It's on the tip of my tongue... Erm... Oh!" She clapped her hands. "James!"

Lily groaned, turned towards her soaked pillow and started to dry it with her wand. "Please, not him..."

"Yeah, James!" Continued Marlene, ignoring her friend's reaction. "He apparently managed to escape the Hospital Wing." She giggled. "But halfway down the hall, he and his friends ran head first into both professor Baker and professor McGonagall. According to Dorcas, they each grabbed him by an ear and dragged him all the way back!"

"Serves him right." Muttered Lily.

"Yeah, well, but I think she was exaggerating. I mean, I don't know about Baker, but I know for sure that McGonagall doesn't drag students by the ear." Marlene mused.

"Either way, I don't care." Said Lily. "I'm going to change. It's cold like this." She waved a hand at her clothes and gave her friend another glare.

When Lily disappeared into the bathroom, Marlene shook her head and muttered: "Who're you kidding? You care."

~O.o.O.o.O~

"I can't believe him! I don't understand – I can't – Why, in the name of Merlin, _why_, has Albus made _Potter_ Head Boy!" Seethed McGonagall.

Harry sighed. McGonagall had been saying things like this nonstop after she and Harry had caught James trying to escape the Hospital Wing. It had been kind of stupid: the three friends hadn't even been hiding under the invisibility cloak.

She and Harry had sent James right back and McGonagall gave him another week with Filch. James had been utterly confused ("What do you mean, '_I already have a week detention with Filch'_!") and Harry had had to hold back a grin when he remembered that McGonagall had given _him_ that week of detention when she had thought he was James.

Oh well, not that he blamed James for trying to escape: the Hospital Wing was horridly boring after all. It was so white and tidy. Frankly, it reminded him a bid of the Dursley's house – both were too tidy and clean.

Now than this staff room, that was more like it, though even this place of the castle reminded him of his own days in Hogwarts. Harry kept taking glances at the large wardrobe where he and Ron would hide in one day.

"Minerva, please calm down. I have no idea how the mind of that man works, so you should just ask him." Said Slughorn, glancing nervously at McGonagall.

"I already did and all he gave me was one of his smiles!" Replied McGonagall.

"One of his smiles?" Asked Harry, pretending he didn't know what they were talking about. In reality, he had a lot of experience with Dumbledore's smiles.

"Yes." Nodded Slughorn, visibly relieved that Harry had interrupted McGonagall."I know you haven't been here for very long, so you haven't experienced it yet, but there will be a time when you wish to know something and you ask Albus-"

"And then he gives you this _smile _and ugh!" McGonagall slapped the table with her fist.

"Hey Minerva, Horace. Is this about Albus' 'I-know-something-you-don't-know-and-I'm-not-gonna-tell-you' smiles?" None of them had noticed that Sprout had walked into the staff room, so the three of them jumped a bit.

"Yes." Answered Harry. "They, apparently, are very frustrating."

"Oh, hello Robert! Sorry, didn't see you there." Said Sprout. "I heard your first day was tough. Poppy told me a few of your seventh years had hexed each other."

Sprout walked over to her three colleagues and sat down next to Harry, who snorted.

"A _few_? You have no idea what I walked in on. There wasn't a single one that didn't end up fighting." He said.

"_End up_ fighting?" Repeated Sprout with a frown.

"Lily Evans tried to calm them down, but when she was hit herself, she joined the fight." Explained Harry.

"You did punish them, didn't you?" Asked McGonagall sharply.

"Yeah – pretty heavy too I guess. I got really mad." Said Harry. "That little stunt cost them a lot of points."

"So that was you!" Said Slughorn. "I walked past the hourglasses at the moment you docked the points – couldn't believe my eyes. That must have been at least a 100 points per house." He then turned to McGonagall, a smirk on his face. "I believe, Minerva, that Gryffindor is still in last place – only now with exactly zero points. This must be a new record, don't you think?"

McGonagall scowled at the man. "Yes, well, we'll get the points back when we beat your house in Quidditch. Potter may lose my house many points, but he is an amazing captain and there is no way, you hear, no way that my team will lose of yours!"

Harry stared at McGonagall, amazed by how competitive she actually was. He already knew that, of course, but to see her talk like this to another teacher... Students didn't get to see this side of their teachers – it was pretty amazing to see the things from this side.

"Speaking of Potter." Said Sprout, subtly changing the subject. "Has he made a fool out of himself in public yet?"

"No, he hasn't." Answered McGonagall. "I suspect he's finally given up."

At seeing Harry's confusion, Slughorn leaned forward over the table so that his mustache was almost hanging in Harry's coffee.

"One thing Potter is famous for, is that he confesses to Lily Evans in public at least fifteen times a year." Said Slughorn in a stage whisper.

McGonagall snorted. "You would have thought he'd learn after the first five times he was rejected, but no."

"She once said that she'd rather date my mustache than him." Slughorn was no longer hanging over the table and was sitting normally again, something which Harry was quite glad about. He grabbed one end of his mustache and held it up so he could look at it. "Well, I suppose it _is _a rather lovely mustache..."

"I think it's cute." Said Sprout smiling. "No, Horace, not your mustache. I meant Potter's confessions."

"Cute? You call that _cute_? It is embarrassing to Ms. Evans!" Said McGonagall. "But you think she's going to fall for him one day than?"

"Well, er... Maybe?" Spluttered Sprout, a red tinge appearing on her cheeks.

"Want to take a bet on that, Pomona?" Asked McGonagall with a daring smile.

"I do." Said Harry before he could stop himself. Right after he said it, he regretted it already. The three teachers were staring at him like he was some foreign animal.

"No offense Robert, but you don't even know them." Said McGonagall finally.

"I know." Said Harry. "It's just a hunch I have."

It vaguely crossed his mind that this wasn't really fair, but he really wanted to see McGonagall's face when his 'hunch' seemed to be right. Plus, they were probably betting for money and he desperately needed some since he couldn't access his vault in here. Harry hated to be living off Dumbledore's money, so he really wanted some of his own and his salary was just not enough. (he really wanted a decent broom to fly with – school brooms weren't good enough)

McGonagall watched him for a moment and then shrugged. "Fine, your loss. Winner gets twenty galleons from the loser, how's that?"

"Fine with me." Nodded Harry.

"Anyone else wants to bet?"

"Oh dear, is it betting time already? What are we betting on?" Dumbledore walked into the room, smiling happily as if he loved seeing his staff betting with each other.

"You don't want to get into this bet, Albus, believe me." Grinned Slughorn. "It's a bet about whether Lily Evans will fall for James Potter or not. Minerva says no, Robert says yes."

As Slughorn said this, Dumbledore turned to look at Harry, eyebrows slightly raised. "Really now?"

"I already told him it's futile, it's never going to happen." Said McGonagall. "But he has a 'hunch'."

Dumbledore nodded, still looking at Harry, which was making him a bit uncomfortable. It seemed that Dumbledore didn't quite approve of the fact that Harry had bet on something like this, because there was no way he wouldn't win this.

"Robert, I was wondering if I could give you a little tour, since you haven't got one yet." Said Dumbledore pleasantly.

Harry nodded, figuring that he couldn't avoid this conversation anyway, so better do it now. He got up and walked to the door with Dumbledore, waving goodbye to his colleagues.

It had felt really weird at first, being friendly like this with the professors that all once thought him, although they didn't know that. He was getting used to it faster than he had thought he would though. It had only been two days and it already was getting easier to think of them as normal persons, not as his old professors. This was mostly because as a student you don't really get to see much of the professors' personalities, but as a fellow professor you do.

He still wasn't used to seeing his parents, Sirius and Remus, though he could control his reactions better now he had had a good night's sleep. When he had run into the Marauders escaping the Hospital Wing, his heart had started beating faster, but he was able to shake it off much easier than the day before.

"I don't think that was very fair, Robert." Said Dumbledore, leading Harry towards the marble staircase and looking him right in the eyes.

"I know." Mumbled Harry. "I just couldn't stop myself." He inwardly cursed – Dumbledore was always able to make him feel guilty.

"Please be more careful next time." Dumbledore stopped quite abruptly on the middle of the stairs. "I already found out one more thing about you like this and I don't think it is wise to give me more information, whether it is intentional or not. Do you understand that?"

Oh. He hadn't thought of it that way, but it seemed logical right now: the more another person knew about the future, the more it was jeopardized and maybe Dumbledore didn't trust himself to do nothing with the information Harry provided him. If Harry gave anything else away – Deaths, important dates or certain events – there was a possibility Dumbledore would give in and would try to change it. Dumbledore had once told him after all, that he didn't trust himself with power anymore and with this kind of information, he would certainly have power.

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry about that." Harry apologized and Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

"Thank you. Now, I don't think you're actually in need of a tour, so I'd be best if we both retreated to our offices."

Harry nodded and Dumbledore smiled at him, before they both went separate ways: one up the moving staircase and one to the left.


	7. Chapter 7

That Sunday, the weather was dreadful, which resulted in not only very full common rooms, but also more students roaming the halls. This was generally not appreciated by people like Filch, who complained to anyone who would like to hear – nobody – that the students made the halls dirty. He did not respond well to cheeky students who told him it was his job to clean, so they were actually doing him a favor: several of them were whacked over the head with a broom.

Of course, there were always students like Sirius Black, who found being whacked over the head totally worth it, mainly because he managed to dirty half the Entrance Hall with mud before he was caught by the caretaker. Filch had turned a lot of shades when he saw the mess. He first turned white, slightly green and then red, before settling on a odd shade of purple. Students avoided the Entrance Hall the rest of the day, only walking through it if they had to. To say that Filch wasn't happy was an understatement. Cleaning the Entrance Hall cost him the bigger part of his day.

Harry had a sense of nostalgia that Sunday. It made him think of his time at Hogwarts, the good times at least. The laughter of the students, the cheerful babbling and also the small fights in the corridors, though he wasn't actually supposed to enjoy these since he was a professor now. Even seeing Filch made him long for his own Hogwarts days.

It made him miss his friends, made him wish one of them was here so he didn't have to go through this alone. He wanted someone he could talk to. Not just small talk, but also about his situation.

Fair enough, he could talk to Dumbledore about that, but it wasn't the same. Dumbledore was so much older then him, but more importantly: he didn't know Harry at all. Nobody here knew Harry and even though that was very nice at times – nobody stared at his scar here and nobody knew he survived two killing curses and had defeated Voldemort – it was mostly very lonely.

The only person who knew his real name was Dumbledore and he didn't look like himself anymore. He wasn't Harry Potter here, he was Robert Baker, a young man without any friends or family. He was just a teacher.

He sighed. For the first time in his life, he wished people would recognize him again.

Deciding he shouldn't think about things like that when he couldn't do anything about it anyway, he made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch. On his way there, he caught some student give Ms. Norris a kick. He awarded the boy with ten points and was feeling a lot happier when he finally reached the Hall.

At lunch, he held a little thumb fight with Dumbledore (which he lost) over the last piece of toast and listened to McGonagall complain about various things, but mostly about the Marauders, who had apparently filled her office with balloons. At the end of lunch, she seemed to have decided that Harry would help her get rid of the balloons (which wouldn't vanish the normal way) and Harry, not really having anything better to do anyway, didn't put on a fight and went to help her.

~O.o.O.o.O~

James was sitting on his bed in his dorm, his friends not with him for a change. He knew where Remus was: in the library, looking something up for a homework assignment that was due next week. Sirius and Peter though, he was not sure about. Peter was probably either stuffing his face in the kitchens (he had still been hungry after lunch) or he was with Remus, hoping to get some help with his homework. When it came to Sirius, there were more possibilities: pranking, irritating the heck out of Remus while he tries to study, stuffing his face with Peter, snogging some random girl in a broom cupboard and many more.

Sighing, he dipped his quill in Remus' ink pot – he didn't steal it, honestly, only lend it – and finished writing the list that he had been thinking up for the last hour and a half. It was titled: 'Reasons why I don't trust Robert Baker', and so far he had been able to think up ten reasons. He did know for sure that he would find more, even though it would take time. It would be much easier to gather information on Baker if his friends would actually support him in this.

They, however, believed that Baker could be trusted. Even Peter hadn't agreed with James! It was mind-blowing, nothing like this had ever happened before: he had always someone agree with him.

Why couldn't they see it? It was so glaringly obvious that there was something wrong with this guy. Okay, true, he couldn't quite put into words what it was exactly – but that didn't mean he wasn't right about this!

He sighed – he had made a list of the little things that made him distrust the guy, but there was something big there and he was going to find out what it was, no matter what!

He blew the ink on the parchment dry, folded it in half and promptly dropped it when his best friend burst through the door. The best friend in question didn't notice him and proceeded to do some kind of weird little dance, using the parchment in his hand as a dance partner.

A little disturbed, James said: "In the name of Merlin's spotted socks, Padfoot, what are you doing?"

Sirius yelped, turned around to face James and tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his face. Laughing, James jumped off his bed and helped him up.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here!" Spluttered Sirius. "I thought you were with Minnie in her office!'"

"Why would you think that?" Snorted James, flopping on his bed again. "I went here straight after lunch and haven't even seen McGonagall."

"Sure, James." Muttered Sirius, making James frown.

"What is that supposed to mean? I mean it – I've been here since lunch and haven't even left the room!" He told Sirius, who then slapped him in the face with the parchment in his hand.

"I was looking at the Map and I clearly saw a Potter in Minnie's office! You're the only Potter in the whole school! I'm not stupid James!" Yelled Sirius indignantly. "If you don't want to tell me why you were there, fine, but don't go and lie to me!"

"I'm not lying, you moron!" Yelled James, throwing his pillow at Sirius' face and hitting it spot on. "Why would I lie about that? And why were you even watching Minnie's office anyway?"

Sirius glared at him and raked a hand through his hair. "I wasn't." He snarled. "I saw it out of the corner of my eye when I was looking for-"

"There you go." Interrupted James. "You just saw it wrong. It probably was that moronic Slytherin, you know, Cotter or something like that. Not me."

"Really? Because you know I don't like being lied to by my friends and-"

"Yes, Padfoot, Really." Sighed James. "I _really_ wasn't in Minnie's office. Besides, didn't we fill it with balloons just before lunch?"

Sirius shrugged. "Thought you got caught or something like that."

"Right."

A silence fell between them, but didn't last for long. Remus Lupin threw open the door with a worried look on his face.

"Lily said she heard yelling from up here." He said. "So speak up."

"Padfoot here was throwing a bit of a hissy fit because he thought he had seen me in Minnie's office on the Map, but I was right here." Explained James. Then, eager: "Did she say something about me?"

Remus frowned. "Who, McGonagall?"

"Lily."

"Oh, just shut up about her already." Moaned Sirius. Both Remus and James ignored him.

"She did." Said Remus and James' face lit up. "She called you a childish idiot with the brain of a flobberworm."

With that, his face fell again. He snatched his pillow off the ground and threw it at Remus, who dodged it. Instead of Remus, it now hit Peter, who had just walked in, right in the stomach. James didn't notice this though. He had closed his eyes and bit his lip until it drew blood. Somewhere in the background, he could heard Peter asking what was wrong with him and Remus answering, but he didn't care.

_Why did she hate him so much? _He didn't get it. Okay, yes, maybe he had been a jerk for all these years, hexing people just because he could, but he wasn't like that anymore. He wasn't so immature anymore, he had grown up.

"But she doesn't know that, mate." Sirius interrupted his thoughts, making him realize he had been thinking out loud.

"Oh." He muttered. So maybe he should show her he was different – but how?

"Wanna hear a great story?" Peter suddenly asked. When James and the two other boys either shrugged or mumbled a 'yes', he continued. "Gudgeon-"

"That moron who almost lost an eye to the Whomping Willow?" Asked James, suddenly very interested. Davey Gudgeon was known to do accept any kind of bet, even the ones that put him in extreme danger.

"Yeah." Nodded Peter. "This time he would get ten galleons if he would dare to kick Ms. Norris."

Sirius winched at that. "So not worth it. Filch got him, didn't he?"

Peter nodded again. "Yes, but that was after professor Baker walked by and happily gave him ten points for kicking that, and I quote, 'bloody annoying cat'."

"Oh Merlin." Sighed Sirius, letting himself fall backwards on his bed. "I think I'm in love."

Remus and Peter burst out in laughter, but James just stared at his friend, totally grossed out. How could he even _say _something like that?

"I was joking, James." Said Sirius suddenly, having noticed James' expression. "You're still determined to hate him, aren't you?"

"You're being ridiculous." Remus had stopped laughing and crossed his arms. "There is nothing wrong with him, it's all in your head."

Still standing by the door, Peter nodded in agreement, making James even angrier than he already was. He glared at all three of them and drew the curtains around his bed shut.

He wasn't being ridiculous! He wasn't! He was just following his instincts and there was nothing wrong with that. Robert Baker was hiding something big and he was going to find out what it was. In the main time, he could not and would no trust him. It was just a shame that his friends insisted that Baker was an okay guy – because he wasn't!

Somehow, James was very insulted by his friends' behavior as well. He had good instincts and they knew that. So why wouldn't they listen to him?

He gasped. Maybe Baker had cursed them so they would trust him no matter what! Merlin, what if Baker was a Death Eater? What should he do!

Taking a deep breath, he decided that he should first find out if the guy was a Death Eater. He didn't know how he was going to do that exactly though. He could check for a Dark Mark on the professor's arm, but not all Death Eaters received one. Or at least, that was what his dad had told him: only Voldemort's inner circle received the Mark.

"Hey, James?" He heard Remus say. He turned his head away, even though his friends couldn't see him anyway. "Didn't you promise Lily to help with-"

"ARGH!" Before Remus could even finish his sentence, James had shot out of his bed and raced out of the room.

"- the planning of the Christmas Ball." Remus finished lamely.

"We're having a Christmas Ball?" Asked Sirius surprised, while Peter groaned and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Yes. Dumbledore announced that two weeks ago, remember?" Sighed Remus, opening his trunk and pulling out a book. "You told me you wanted to go with Florence."

"Who?" Asked Sirius, not sounding really interested at all. He swung his legs off his bed and went to open the curtains around James' bed. "Ohhh, what's this?"

"Florence is – Sirius, put that back. That's James', you have no right to read that... Why are you looking like that? Sirius!" Bellowed Remus, before he got the parchment shoved in his hands.

"Read."

"But-" Remus started to protest, but Sirius shook his head and pointed at the parchment. With a exasperated sigh, Remus opened the parchment, aware that Peter had walked over and was attempting to read over his shoulder. "Reasons why I don't trust... Oh, bloody hell." Without reading any further, Remus pushed the parchment in the hands of an eager Peter.

"He's becoming obsessed, Remmy." Muttered Sirius. "This really isn't healthy."

"I know." Remus rubbed his temples. "But what can we do besides tell him he's being an unreasonable idiot?"

"Nothing?" Guessed Peter.

"Exactly. I think we should just let him obsess for the time being." Nodded Remus. Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus kept talking and snatched the parchment from Peter's hands. "That, of course, doesn't mean we have to stop telling him he's being an idiot."

He took a glance at the list in his hands, walked over to his trunk again and grabbed a quill and an ink pot.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Smirked Sirius, walking over so he could sit next to Remus. Peter quickly darted after him.

"Let's see..." Muttered Remus, dipping his quill in the ink. "Reasons why I trust Robert Baker and think James is an idiot..."

Sirius grinned – no matter how much he cared for his best friend, he felt that what James was doing was wrong. Robert Baker had done nothing to deserve such treatment and his ticked him off. He glanced at Remus, who was scribbling away. Remus was taking James behavior even harder, since he had a serious problem with people who judged someone for no good reason.

Well, he thought as Remus handed the parchment over to him, James was going to have one hell of a surprise when he found his precious list.


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm so sorry I took so long to update. I just had some problems and well, they're not solved yet, but I'm doing my best. As for this chapter, I just finished it and I have the feeling it's crappy.. But I just wanted to update something, so you all know I'm not dead and not giving up on this story ;) One last thing before you start reading the chapter (if you're even reading this, haha) I made a poll some time ago in which I ask if you, my readers , want someone from Harry's time to come find him and if yes, who. I made this poll, because some people wanted Ginny to come find him and I'm not sure... Well, please vote :) I love you all!**

**...**

Purple – red – green – orange – blue – pink – yellow – purple – red – green – orange – blue – ...

Harry blinked and continued to stare at the floor of the Entrance Hall, which kept changing colors every few seconds. He wasn't the only one that was mesmerized by it – a big part of the student population was staring at the floor. Harry though, was the only member of the staff that had really joined the students.

Filch was running around, randomly accusing students of ruining his floor – rumor was that Filch had tried to scrub the color away before everyone came to eat breakfast. He had clearly failed.

McGonagall was fuming and searching the crowd. Harry suspected that she was looking for the Marauders. Flitwick, who was with her, was happily praising the spellwork, making McGonagall even angrier in the process, though he didn't seem to notice that.

The majority of the staff had merely shrugged and had walked into the Great Hall to have their breakfast. The exceptions were Dumbledore, who had first spend a few minutes watching the floor with Harry before claiming to be hungry and leaving for breakfast, and Slughorn, who had been pretty angry, but had left because the flashing was giving him a headache.

Harry had to admit that it was indeed great spellwork. Having a lot of experience with how Hogwarts reacts to spells, he knew very well how hard it must have been to make this work. Not only that, but it was also cast on a big area. He had no idea how the Marauders had done this.

Harry frowned. It was also possible that this wasn't a spell on the floor, but just a layer of flashing paint. But Filch hadn't been able to scrub even a little bit off... So this was either a layer of Filch-proof paint or a tricky spell. Either way, Harry was impressed..

"Robert, m'boy," A voice to his right snapped Harry out of his musings. "why are you still standing here?" Slughorn was standing there, looking at Harry. Harry shrugged.

"I'm impressed." He said, gesturing toward the flashing floor. Slughorn huffed, making his mustache flutter.

"This is a violation of Hogwarts property," He said disapprovingly. "that's hardly something to be impressed about."

Harry shook his head and said: "No, you misunderstood me. I meant I was impressed by the spellwork, not the violation."

Slughorn opened his mouth, closed it again and looked like he was pondering about continuing this discussion or not. He seemed to decide against it, as he merely raised his eyebrows and gestured for Harry to follow him to the Great Hall. With a last look at the floor, Harry followed him.

"So, Robert, enjoying Hogwarts so far?" Asked Slughorn loudly over the noise of the Great Hall when they walked in.

"Oh yes, very much." Answered Harry while avoiding a running first year Hufflepuff.

"Good, good." Nodded Slughorn, marching up to the High Table and pulling out a chair for Harry. "Not getting lost too much I hope? Hogwarts can be pretty tricky when you're new."

"No, don't worry." Said Harry as he sat down. "All I really have to know is the way from my classroom to the Great Hall and that isn't that hard to remember."

Slughorn chuckled and grabbed a bun for himself and one for Harry. "It seems like you haven't been informed yet about doing rounds."

"Rounds?" Asked Harry, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, the professors, Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl do rounds in the evenings. Sometimes early mornings as well. The schedule for us professors hangs in the staff room and- Ooh, can you pass me that jam, Robert? No, no, the other one – Yes, thank you... Anyway... What was I saying again?"

"The schedule."

"Oh yes, of course, the schedule." Slughorn smiled broadly and started to spread jam on his bun. "I have to patrol the dungeons three times a week. Very nasty when it's winter, your toes freeze right off down there. Well, at least it's always better then having the patrol the Arithmancy corridor and the Astronomy tower. Climbing all those stairs is very tiring and you walk into students almost every time you go up that tower. Ah, to be young again! Back in my day I could be found up there a lot as well." Slughorn sighed deeply, making his mustache flutter.

"Er... Right..." Muttered Harry, averting his eyes. He so didn't need metal images of Slughorn on top of the Astronomy tower doing- Ew, no, he wasn't going to go there.

He waited until Slughorn would start speaking again, but he didn't. Instead, Slughorn started to eat his bun and stared at nothing in particularity, his eyes glazed over. He only snapped out of it after Harry gave a few pointed coughs.

"Ah! Right!" Slughorn seemed to shake himself. " Let's stop talking about old me, shall we? You, my dear boy, are still pretty young, aren't you? What's your age now?"

Harry considered adding five years to his real age, but decided against it. He had to lie enough as it was, better not add more lies to remember, especially unnecessary lies.

"I'm nineteen." He answered honestly. This answer made Slughorn smile widely for some reason.

"Well! Fresh out of school you are and already teaching!" Exclaimed Slughorn. "Are you planning to stay and teach here after this year or are you going to do something else? I heard you are a very talented wizard."

At that moment, professor Vector decided to sit down on Slughorn's right and asked the Potions professor something, giving Harry the opportunity to think. He had reached the conclusion that Slughorn probably wanted him in his Slugclub, even though he was a professor. He had never heard of a professor being in the Slugclub before though, but the way Slughorn was asking him questions indicated that he was trying to figure out if Harry had potential to become someone famous.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back a chuckle – if Slughorn only knew.

"So, what are your plans?" Asked Slughorn, apparently done talking to professor Vector. "He's a bit of an oddball." He added in a low whisper, jerking his head towards the man next to him. "Septima is a extremely talented and smart wizard and had plenty of opportunities, but he decided he wanted to be a teacher. Such a waste of talent."

Harry shrugged, still not really sure if he should lie or not. "Well, I don't know..." He started to say hesitantly. Slughorn's face lit up and he hastily added: "But I like it a lot here, so I might just stay."

Harry sighed in relief when Slughorn's face fell again, but, much to his annoyance, it lit up just as quickly again.

"Ah, but you're not sure, are you?" Asked Slughorn, looking like Christmas had come early.

Harry gaped at him. "No, I'm not sure, but-"

"Robert, m'boy, you do know you show a lot of potential, don't you?"

"Er... No... I..." Spluttered Harry, looking around him for some kind of excuse to escape this man and this conversation. He didn't like were this was going.

"You do, you do. Several students told me so!" Beamed Slughorn, like Harry should be happy about this. Under normal circumstances he would have been, but he did _not_ wish to have Slughorn's attention on him like this.

"Oh."

"Great, isn't it?" Continued the Potions professor, completely obvious to Harry's stony face and clenched fists. "So I was wondering... I have these little meetings once in a while, maybe you heard of them? No? Well, I have those meetings, little dinner parties, with students that have potential to become someone big and I was wondering if you would like to come to the next one, perhaps...?"

"Er...I..." Began Harry, not really knowing how he could decline the offer in a friendly way.

"Brilliant! I'll let you know the date as soon as possible!" Said Slughorn happily, patting Harry's arm. "Well, I should go... Have to prepare my lesson..."

Harry had no idea how Slughorn had found a 'yes' in his response and stared at him. "But I'm not a student!" He said loudly.

Slughorn smiled at him. "Don't you worry about that, Robert m'boy, I'm glad to make an exception for you."

"But I don't-"

BOOM!

The sudden noise startled Harry so much that he nearly fell out of his chair. Before he could register what had been the source of the noise, he really did fall out of his chair. Something hard had hit him in the head. He frowned, massaging the back of his head. It looked like a potato. A pink potato with wings. Then it started to walk and it dawned on him – it was a garden gnome. Somebody had caught a garden gnome, painted it pink and gave it wings.

_Why?_

It was when a second gnome almost hit him that he thought of getting up. He almost immediately wished he hadn't. The whole hall was filled with pink garden gnomes, which all seemed to be marching towards the Gryffindor table and big red flowers had started to fall down. This was not the worst though, Harry decided when he looked up. The whole ceiling was red with golden words on it.

**MY MOST BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT LILY EVANS, WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME? **

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. This was unbelievable. His _father _was unbelievable. And Stupid. And a moron. An unbelievably stupid moron.

"Robert... Robert!" Harry looked up, right in the smug face of professor McGonagall.

"Yes?" He attempted to force a smile on his face, but failed miserably.

"I just came to tell you that you're going to lose this bet. Look." McGonagall gestured toward the Gryffindor table, where Lily had just stood up and was yelling angrily. To make things worse, it turned out that the gnomes were ordered to follow her around and sing sappy love songs to her.

"JAMES POTTER, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Lily had apparently spotted James, who had been standing by the open doors of the Great Hall, watching her. After one look at her face, he did what any sane man without a deathwish would do when faced with a glare like hers: run. The next moment Harry found out that is was his mother he had inherited his speed from. His poor father wouldn't stand a chance, he thought, as he watched his mother run out of the Hall.

"Excuse me." Said professor McGonagall after a moment of silence. "I have to go give Mr. Potter another detention. Well... what is left of him, anyway..."

Harry watched her walk away, stood up and walked over to Dumbledore, who was calmly sticking one of the flowers (he now saw they were Lily's) in his hair.

"Ah, young love." He smiled when Harry reached him.

Harry ignored that comment and urged: "Please tell me you know how to get me out of here, sir. I don't think I can handle a year of this... this..." But he couldn't find a word to describe what he had just witnessed.

"Ah...I know several ways to 'get you out of here'. You see, I could just tell you to walk through these doors, which would technically 'get you out of here', but I don't think you meant it that way." Said Dumbledore serenely while gesturing for Harry to sit down. "Now what I think you really meant to ask was if I know how to send you home, which, I am afraid, I haven't figured out yet."

"Oh."

"Yes, well... You haven't even been here for a week yet, you will get used to it. Now, my dear boy, would you like one of these peppermints? They are quite good."

It turned out Dumbledore was right, they peppermints were pretty good and Harry really did get used to his father's odd behavior when his mother was concerned. Almost a month went by without much happening, which appeared to be pretty rare and made the professors uncomfortable. Usually, the Marauders did a big prank at least once a week, but something had changed. Harry had heard several rumors in the staffroom. One of them was that the Marauders were planning something huge, hence the discomfort of the professors, who feared for their safety and hoped the four friends didn't blow anything up (or, in case of professor Slughorn, hoped that they didn't plan to blow up the Slytherins). Another one was that they'd just matured (McGonagall had laughed for five minutes straight after she heard that one). Some other theories were that they'd lost inspiration, lost a bet or were too busy. The most likely one Harry had heard though, was that it had something to do with James.

He hadn't noticed at first, but something had happened between his father and the rest of the Marauders. They still hung out together, sat together in class and at meals, but it was different. Forced. They sometimes started fighting all of a sudden, James against the others. James also had the tendency to suddenly start to ignore his friends while they were talking.

An other thing he had noticed, was that James didn't seem to like him. Why, Harry did not know, but it made him feel so miserable when his father glared at him like that. He wanted to fix the relationship (which wasn't much of a relationship anyway, because they were only professor and student, as far as James knew) but how could he fix it when he didn't know what to fix?

Luckily, things went much better with his mother. She had the tendency to hang around after class and after Harry had stopped feeling like crawling under his desk every time he saw her, he found that he quite liked talking to her. She was a very interesting person, had strong opinions about everything and was not afraid to voice them out loud. What he also loved about her was that she was about the only person in the school who didn't flinch when he said 'Voldemort'.

That was really annoying in his opinion – whole classes that flinched, screamed or fell of their chair when he used the name. He had given all his classes the same speech about how stupid they were being and he continued to use the name, no matter how many times students asked him not to.

He suddenly smiled and shook his head. He wasn't going to think about that now, he decided as he greeted professor Flitwick. It was the fifth of November and he was going to see his father play Quidditch for the first time in his life. He smiled again, as the worries temporarily left his mind to be replaced with the excitement of his favorite sport in the world.


End file.
